


Narcissist

by heartachequisition



Category: Kagerou Project, Mekakucity Actors
Genre: Co-existing?, I don't know what this is either, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Rated For Violence, Self-cest, Shintaro and Shintaro?, i guess, suffocation warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1734566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartachequisition/pseuds/heartachequisition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wouldn't call this selfish, nor would he call it self-satisfaction. It wasn't as if he even liked himself that much - quite frankly, it was the opposite. ShinXXShin(?).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Narcissist

He wouldn't call this selfish, nor would he call it self-satisfaction. His double - though he needed to find another, more succinct way of addressing the male - was a vent more than anything. It wasn't even fascination with the boundaries of himself, or any obsession with his mirror image or and overwhelming ego.

It was an escape. A reminder. 

This was someone he could damage and pleasure and hurt and heal in a cycle without any hint of remorse.

He didn't have to care about this person.

He  _didn't_ care about this person.

Yet he did, so very much. Cared enough to completely and utterly hate him; and more importantly love, love, love him.

Shintaro was simply so deep into the pits of narcissism that by this point: no-one but himself would do. 

And indeed, himself he did do.

This darker version of him - dressed in black and coated with a deranged sadness, was so weak. So vulnerable, so pathetic; but also so compulsive. He was addicted to it, to everything, to himself.

He was his own addiction.

"What do you want?" The familiar voice they both shared filtered from his double's mouth, bitter and scathing. Shintaro approached him readily, crushing a drink can in his fist. Surely, he was the superior one in this self-absorbed relationship. The dark Shintaro was too hateful to ever take control of anything.

"Not much." He replied airily, almost condescending in his red-jersey-old-trouser combo. "You know I never want much from you." 

"Don't expect me to listen to you." The other spat harshly, rolling under the covers of the bed they knew so well.

He seemed to have thought he had hidden it, but nothing escaped  _this_ Shintaro's keen eye on detail.

"Were you crying again?"

"No." A quick reply. Sharp. 

Raising his eyebrows, Shintaro sat at the end of the bed, on top of the other's feet. "Is that so?"

"Get off me."

Shintaro shrugged off his red jersey - the only other reminder he had which separated them - now leaning over the lithe body under the blanket, squashing his double with his weight. Face-down on the bed, he had almost assumed the young man was attempting to suffocate himself again until he heard an indignant grunt of annoyance.The tired counterpart struggled, but lack of exercise and motivation kept him pinned.

"Did you hear me? I said get  _off._ "

Pulling the blanket out from between them, he now had his body pressed right against his twin - the dark eyes of hatred staring right back at him.

He was used to it, anyway.

Used to being hated.

Even by himself.

"What'll you do it I don't?"

He couldn't say he was surprised when his double locked their lips roughly the instant after that.

"You're awfully conceited." He breathed when they broke apart. He let his eyes glint in amusement at the complete lack of affection in even this kind of gesture.

The black-clad Shintaro chuckled darkly, twisting his neck to face him. "That coming from you."

 "Shut up."

 Irritated, he shoved his double's face back into the bed. For someone with low lung capacity, he sure handled smothering well. There was no reaction when he applied more force to the head, so Shintaro decided to flip him onto his back violently and the other was left breathing heavily, screwing his eyes shut.

He quickly rid the male of his black hoodie, leaving them both identical down to the dead look in their eyes.

As soon as his jacket left him, his lookalike groped for it, almost falling off the bed in the process. Realising he wasn't going to escape the other's hold, he glared, "It's cold. Give that back."

"Why? Don't you want to be like me?" Shintaro knew he was crossing a line, but he was past the point of caring. About this, about anyone. "Don't you want to  _grow up?_ "

It happened in a flash, but though weaker; the darker duplicate of Shintaro swapped places with him and let the feeling of weakness wash over him. Only once - he knew neither of them had the guts to kill each other. They didn't have the guts to kill their own selves first.

What ever happened to 'there can only be one of us in this world'?

Or even, 'I died for you to live, not for you to live with me.'

He could barely remember how long it had been since he had locked himself indoors with his clone - his XX, parallel self - but he couldn't imaging going without this outlet. 

Stronger, and faster, he switched their positions once more.

Gripping the other by the neck, he straddled him, threatening him. Not for the first time either - but they were both accustomed to this age old routine. Anyone could judge them, but they were intent on breaking their own heart.

"Hey, asshole. I hate you."

For the first time in a while, he noted a smirk adorning his mirror image.

"Why, I hate me too."

 

**Author's Note:**

> What am I doing ;; I am literally trying to keep my eyes open I'm so tired, I needed to write something different from what I usually write...


End file.
